


Time Makes You Bolder

by DoubleApple



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Draco/Harry, Drinking, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Karaoke, M/M, Makeup, Painting, Past Harry/Ginny - Freeform, Singing, Stevie Nicks - Freeform, an art-supply closet, dear god it sounds even more ridiculous when it’s written out like this, don’t worry they’re called out, karaoke with paintbrushes, light reinforcement of lesbian stereotypes, of course there’s an art-supply closet, what could make this setup even more ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 02:10:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18273674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleApple/pseuds/DoubleApple
Summary: For the prompt...Ginny's always been one of Teddy's favorite "adults." But 3 years after hers and Harry's divorce, she's getting back in the game with a date with Luna. Her question to Teddy has left him exasperated: "I wanna look sexy, but also kind of batty. Can you do that?" Extras: Fleetwood Mac, and a date at one of those drinking/painting places that Teddy and James get roped into "chaperoning".





	Time Makes You Bolder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zeitgeistic (faire_weather)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faire_weather/gifts).



> [Zeitgeistic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faire_weather/pseuds/zeitgeistic), thank you for this prompt, which I’m pretty sure is the best prompt in the history of all prompts since the beginning of prompt-time! I hope this bit of fluff does it justice. 
> 
> Thanks to the incomparable [Quicksilvermaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilvermaid/pseuds/Quicksilvermaid) for the alpha and the beta and the everything, and to [MaesterChill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maesterchill) and the other great discord britpickers who straightened me out re: food. Veghogs FTW!
> 
> And thanks to [GoldenTruth813](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldentruth813) for organizing this fest and for putting so many good Jeddy vibes out into the world!
> 
> All characters property of J.K. Rowling and Scholastic.

“In here,” Teddy calls, as soon as he hears James tumble in from the Floo. Teddy’s in their bedroom, sitting at his small lit-up vanity and unpacking the Muggle cosmetics from his work bag. It’s been hit with so many extension charms over the years that the bottom is beginning to disintegrate. 

“Dare I ask why my mum just texted asking whether I’m home from work yet?” James says, tossing his phone on their bed and flopping down face-first next to it. Before Teddy can answer, James picks his head up to see the makeup spread over half the surfaces in their room. “She’s on her way over right now, isn’t she. I have never understood your relationship.”

“I know, love.” Teddy smiles. He gets up and kisses James on the top of the head, and James — still face down — swipes out a hand to grab Teddy’s arm and keep it there. He sits down and cards his fingers lightly through James’ untidy hair, giving a little massage to his neck, and James groans into the mattress. 

“Difficult day?” Teddy asks. 

James nods. “Just the usual. Junior Aurors get all the shit work.” 

“Hm.” Teddy suspects James gets, or asks for, or eagerly invites, more shit work than the junior Aurors who _aren’t_ Harry Potter’s son, too. Proving himself without relying on his father’s name to get ahead is important to James, although he’d never admit it out loud. 

Teddy kisses James’ head again and lingers for a moment, letting the dark messy hair brush against his face. Then he goes back to his supplies, and James sits up, toes off his shoes, and settles back more comfortably on the bed. 

“So what’s my mum on about now?” he asks. 

“Her date with Luna tonight.” Teddy’s reaches the bottom of the bag, but he still can’t find his favorite black eyeliner. Blast. Had he left it on the set? 

“Still? Merlin.” James Accios Teddy’s beer bottle from the vanity and, finding it empty, Accios another from the fridge. 

Teddy studies a liquid purple eyeliner, wondering if he could Transfigure it to a different shade. Colorwork was always difficult, and Muggle cosmetics were tricky — but sometimes even better than magic, particularly when it came to faces. Clothes were a different story — good tailoring charms could be downright brilliant — but he never did charms on faces; glamours always had the shimmer of unreality about them, and Teddy had spent too many years becoming skilled as a Muggle makeup artist to accept anything less than perfection.

“What are you doing right now?” James eyes the makeup and Teddy rifling through the bad. 

“Unpacking my—“

“So you can fancy her up.” James rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t be a tosser to your mum. She’s never gone out with Luna properly before, and she wants to look nice.”

“Oh, if that were all of it, if you were just going to do her up and send her on her way, I’d be glad to see her. But it’s not, is it. That’s _never_ all of it with mum, these days.”

Teddy smiles. “Fine, yeah. She wants us to come with.” 

“Absolutely not,” James says automatically. “No bloody way. I’m tired of her recruiting us to be her funny gay wingman. Wingmen. Wingwizards. Whatever. I’m not going.”

“Jamie! You don’t even know where they’re off to yet.” 

“Oh, I can guess it’s somewhere grand, just by the look on your face.” James glowers and leans his head back on the headboard of the bed. “It’s probably some kind of… shrieky political thing, isn’t it. Or a Muggle pub with horrifying music that sounds like someone’s Crucio-d a cat. Or wait, no, a lesbian karaoke bar, where they only serve ethically sourced cocktails, and no food. It’s always somewhere awful.”

Teddy just smiles and waits for James to get it out of his system. His lips are pursed, eyebrows drawn, scepticism written all over his sodding gorgeous face. 

“It’s worse than that, isn’t it,” James says. “Worse than ethical cocktails. Brunhilda’s bunions, I already hate whatever barmy lesbian thing this is.”

“Don’t stereotype lesbians like that.” Teddy can’t help but smile more broadly. 

“”Why do you still have that look on your face? Your hair’s going all pink and wavy.” 

“Because I love you. Because you’re amusing. And because it’s a wine-and-painting evening,” Teddy admits. 

“I love you too,” James says, scowling. He sinks back on the bed. “But what the bloody fuck is a wine-and-painting evening.” 

“You’ve seen those shops, haven’t you? You don’t have to paint—“

“Paint what? Like a wall?”

“No, like art,” Teddy’s can’t stop himself smiling more broadly. “Usually copy of an existing painting. There’s an example, but you have your own easel and brushes and whatnot? And a teacher guides you through the steps. It sounds quite fun, really, your mum’s done it loads of times—“

“What…. no. No no no, Teddy, no. Absolutely not.”

“I already told her yes.”

“I refuse to be her chaperone tonight. Absolutely not. I’m completely knackered. I had a ridiculous day, there’s all this rubbish going on at work with Dawlish’s replacement being a tit about her new protocols. And dad and Draco are getting ready for their stupid party next weekend, and Draco is throwing a strop about my things from uni still being in their garage and the extension charm not being strong enough—“

“I mean... you know your mum’s already on her way over, yeah?” Teddy asks with a rueful smile. 

James moans in mock-pain. A hard spring breeze blows into the bedroom window, carrying the smell of fresh rain and wet pavement.

“Why do _we_ have to go on her bloody _date_ with her?!”

“Moral support, you plonker. She’s nervous. You know how she gets.”

“Yeah, I do know — after nervous comes bossy. And then comes _combative_. And I don’t even like wine!”

James is quickly veering toward pouting, so Teddy tries to sweeten the deal. “We can bring a flask of something. And I’ll make it worth your while, promise.” Teddy offers him the slow, sweet smile that never fails to work, and sure enough, James softens right away. 

“Tedward, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Dunno.” Teddy tries for noncommittal. “You’ll have to come with me tonight to find out.”

James gets up and folds his arms over Teddy’s shoulders, talking to him in the mirror as they both look at their reflections. “I love how you act like you’re oh-so-reluctantly willing to have semi-public sex for my benefit. As if it isn’t _your_ kink. You should own it, at least.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Teddy says innocently, chastely even, but then ruins it by turning his head to bite lightly at James’ neck. He smells divine, like soap and warmth and the spring air outside. Fine, so Teddy likes a bit of sex where they could get caught. He likes looking at James in a crowd of people just after, knowing where his mouth had been just a moment ago. Maybe. Possibly. What of it?

***

Twenty minutes later, Ginny’s swept in from the Floo and headed into the shower just off their bedroom, calling out to Teddy and James over the rush of the water. 

“I wanna look sexy, but also kind of batty. Can you do that?"

“Batty... how?” Everyone in the Weasley family seems to think Teddy can automatically read their minds, without ever offering him a single clue about what anything means. 

“You know, batty — whimsical, free, ethereally beautiful. Like I’m not taking myself too seriously. But also badass, like I’m to be _taken_ seriously.” 

“Like Stevie Nicks, you mean,” James chimes in from his spot on the bed, his mouth full. He’s Accio’d a bag of crisps, by this point, and he’s getting crumbs all in their bed, but he’s also stopped whinging, so Teddy decides not to mention it. 

“Yes, exactly! Stevie Nicks.” Teddy has no idea who they’re talking about. 

“I love your mum, and also she is completely daft,” Teddy whispers to James, just as the water shuts off. 

“I heard that!” Ginny shouts from the loo. 

James smirks. “ _Completely_ daft, but she’s got excellent hearing,” he says through a mouthful of crisps. 

Ginny emerges wrapped in a large white towel, drying her short red hair roughly until it sticks out at every angle. She takes one look at James, frowns, and picks up her wand from Teddy’s makeup table. 

“Accio crisps,” she says, and the bag flies neatly into her hand. Before James can protest, though, she calls, “Accio hedgehogs!” and three packages fly from her bag onto the table. She unwraps them to reveal her tried-and-true treat at every family party: foil-covered hedgehogs with olives for eyes and noses, and toothpicks with crudite and cheese cubes sticking out as the spines. 

Teddy smiles; he should have known. Ginny’s not much of a chef, and these hedgehogs were her go-to dish as every family party — birthdays, graduations, sometimes supper on a Wednesday night when she didn’t want to cook. 

“Brilliant!” James’ eyes light up, and he scrambles off the bed to get some. “ _Yes_ , you did the cheese and pineapple.”

Ginny looks well pleased with herself. “Pre-gaming, you know,” she says, popping a tomato in her mouth. “But it’s almost time to go, Teddy, let’s get started.”

She pulls on jeans and a t-shirt for Teddy to Transfigure later, and sits down at his vanity. “All right! Channeling Stevie!”

Teddy decides to spare himself their inevitable exclamations of dismay and not reveal he’s no idea who they’re going on about. Instead, all three of them pull out their mobiles and find approximately a million photos of Stevie Nicks. She seems to be a singer of some kind, with bloody amazing makeup, all pale cheeks and thick lashes and smudgy dark eyeliner. She’s dressed in several different styles of Muggle clothing. Draping the clothes over one another seems important. 

“So we’ll need some… shawls, then?” Teddy flicks through more images. Quite a lot of shawls, really. 

“Merlin, she’s gorgeous,” Ginny says. 

“You’ve always been obsessed with her, mum,” James says through a mouthful of hedgehog veg. 

“True. There are maybe some things I should have figured out a bit earlier,” Ginny says, and that earns her a fond smile from her eldest son, who’d figured things out before she had. 

“Except you’re wrong about something — Stevie Nicks is dead sexy. Always has been,” James says, completely serious. “She does not look batty at all.”

“Well… maybe a bit batty,” Teddy says, scrolling dubiously through the photos. 

“Edward-Tedward Remus Lupin, I refuse to let you speak ill of the goddess Stevie Nicks under my roof!” James shouts, as Ginny raises her drink to him. 

“Cheers, Jamie!” she says, and takes a long sip. 

“You both said ‘batty’ yourselves not five minutes ago…” Teddy trails off, but he’s already distracted as he looks around for something to Transfigure into a shawl. Shawls. 

He begins with the makeup — that lovely smudgy eyeliner, mascara, powder, one small charm to bring out the freckles on Ginny’s nose and cheeks. The last one wasn’t Nicks-specific, but he’s always loved her freckles, and he bets Luna must remember them from their school days. 

As he works on Ginny’s face, James plays Fleetwood Mac songs on his mobile and holds forth on Stevie Nicks. Apparently there was no _way_ was she a Muggle, and their family’d spent hours and hours during some ill-begotten camping holiday decoding magical clues in her lyrics. Harry had introduced Stevie Nicks to Ginny before they’d even gotten married, because it was some of the only music he’d heard as a kid. Apparently, on nights his awful Muggle aunt had a second glass of sherry, she'd put on a greatest hits record. (“Of course that cow Petunia would have only had greatest hits,” Ginny mutters as Teddy tries to smooth out her hair.) 

James, for his part, seems to love the music the way you love something when you’re little, unthinkingly and completely, just because that’s how it was in your family. And James, his James, never cared what anyone else thought anyway. 

“How did I never know this about you?” Teddy asks James, and Ginny gives him a swat for not playing her music in their flat. 

Teddy finishes up with Ginny and then puts a bit of black eyeliner on himself. He adds some contouring to his cheekbones, plus a hint of cream blush to make his eyes sparkle. James gives an appreciative little noise; he loves Teddy in makeup. 

They both get to work on Ginny’s clothes. Her t-shirt becomes a diaphanous, multi-layered black tunic. The jeans stay, but they add a ropey belt wound around her waist several times, to set off her hips. James Transfigures a scrap of fabric from Teddy’s kit into — yes — a huge beaded shawl. 

James and Teddy step back and eye her critically. “Something’s still missing,” James says, and Teddy nods. 

“Jewelry?” James asks. He snaps his fingers, and two beaded feather earrings fly out of his case and wing their way over to hover expectantly near Ginny’s head. Smiling, she plucks them out of the air and puts them on. They flutter prettily in her ears, preening themselves and settling down to trail onto her shoulders. 

“Brilliant!” she says, laughing, and Teddy can hear the happiness in her voice. She casts a Tempus; it’s nearly seven already. 

“Oh no, we need to go! Come on, you two.” She starts gathering her things and Teddy reaches into his bedside table for his Muggle wallet. 

“Wait wait, one more thing,” James insists. “Accio sunglasses.”

A pair of aviators sails across the room, and Ginny laughs again as she puts them on. 

“Won’t we be indoors? And also, it's raining...” she trails off, as they hurry into the Floo. Ginny doesn’t wait for the answer, tossing in a pinch of powder, saying an unfamiliar address, and diving in. 

“Never mind, mum, I’ll charm them clear or something,” James says, and catches Teddy’s hand to hurry him through first. 

***

Twenty minutes after that, they’ve Flooed into a magical pub just behind the pottery studio and walked around to its front stoop, waiting for Luna. It's still drizzling, and it's windy and chilly outside. Women are walking past in groups of two or three, heading inside, laughing and talking. Several of them seem rather tipsy already. Ginny keeps plucking nervously at her clothes, and Teddy’s quietly wondering if he didn’t go a bit overboard with the eyeliner after all. 

Ginny holds up one of the earrings and turns to Teddy and James. “Are you sure about these?” she asks. The feather ruffles itself as though affronted. 

“Of course we’re sure, mum, you look brilliant,” James says, smiling his crooked cheeky smile. “You look like a million Galleons. And you’ve known Luna for ages, and she already loves you for who you are. You could show up in a sack and be a complete arse in every way, and she’d still be into you, yeah?”

Ginny grins. “Thank you, love. I suppose I’ll keep you after all.” 

“Because I’m your favorite,” he adds, playing into an old game Teddy was jealous of when he was just a boy. 

“Nope, Al’s my favorite,” Ginny says automatically, her old answer reaching back through the decades for poor Al, the eternal middle child, insecure between his ebullient, undeniable siblings. Teddy watches Ginny and James together for a moment as she tries to smooth his hair, tucking a piece behind his ear. He deliberately shakes it back into his eyes, and then the three of them are startled by a calm, “oh hello, everyone,” as Luna strolls up from the opposite direction they were expecting her. 

Ginny straightens up and her hand flies up to pluck at her shawl again. “Oh! Ah, hullo, Luna,” she says, her voice suddenly different, more formal. Nervous, perhaps. 

Luna’s beautiful, Teddy realises. He’s never given her a good look before, but her silver-gold hair floats around her like a cloud. She’s wearing a lemon yellow jumpsuit that some would say wasn’t fit for a woman her age, or her round soft body, but she’s absolutely rocking it, with an asymmetrical necklace and a bit of an 80s edge herself. 

“Oh hello, James and Teddy, I didn’t know you two would be joining us, how lovel— ooh, look at your feathers!” Luna lifts her hand to touch one, and Ginny moves closer expectantly. 

“We were going for a certain aesthetic,” Teddy says. “Early ’80s Stevie Nicks.”

“I’ve no idea who you’re talking about, but they must be very posh. And you look beautiful,” she says, in that dreamy diplomatic way of hers. “Very self-actualized. Very _you_.” Ginny beams at her. Teddy recognises the warmth of that smile from James’ own face, and it’s about more than just the wide mouth and the freckles across the bridge of the nose. It’s some undefinable openness, an assuredness and genuine happiness, that comes from — Teddy can only assume — the lifelong, unconditional love of a family. For all of their bickering and noise, the Weasleys’ warmth is magnetic, undeniable, more powerful than any magic. It had changed Teddy’s life. There was no way Luna wouldn’t feel it too, and wouldn’t fall for it just the way he had. When that kind of love was turned toward you, you were helpless in its light. 

“Should we go in?” he asks, and Ginny holds the door for all of them. 

Inside, it’s bright and loud, congenial, with turned-out women everywhere. Teddy’s conscious that he and James are the only men in a distinctly female space, that they’re on women’s turf. A friendly instructor in coveralls comes over and sets them up with easels and paints, all in a row, and proceeds to demonstrate how to recreate a giant field of sunflowers — which feels appropriate, since Luna is basically a walking sunflower bloom herself. 

She’s on one end of their row and Teddy’s on the other, so he can’t quite tell what’s going on. But she and Ginny both have large glasses of deep red wine, their heads already bent together in concentration on their canvases. 

Beside him, James is sneaking something stronger out of a flat pocket flask he’d charmed to stay full. He hands it over to Teddy for a sip and it’s disgustingly sweet, with a vicious burn at the end. Maybe vodka or some kind of spirit mixed with pumpkin juice, and it's vile, and Teddy hands it right back. He refuses the wine, too, figuring that at least one of them ought to stay sober enough to get everyone home without alerting any Muggles to their presence. 

Fifteen minutes in, he and James both have passable beginnings to their sunflowers, and Ginny’s spotted the flask and begun sharing it with James. Belatedly, Teddy thinks it’s maybe not a stellar idea to mix whatever that rubbish is with the wine — but chaperones only go so far, right? And he’s enjoying the painting; his own sunflowers are looking rather nice, he thinks, as he dabs in some blue for the sky. 

James has wandered away from his easel, chatting with the other painters and tweaking his mum. He’s halfway sozzled already, chatting animatedly with the instructor. Teddy adds some clouds and two ravens to his sky. 

Suddenly, loudly, James asks, “Excuse me, Henrietta, where’s the loo?” She shoots him a knowing smile and says, “Just behind the desk over there, James” — of course she knows his name; he’s already charmed the pants off half the women here, that’s typical — and he crosses the room back over to Teddy, wordlessly yanks him up from his stool, and drags him away by the hand. 

“Wha— do you need company?” Teddy asks, a bit unhappy to be dragged from his painting when he'd been working at it for nearly an hour. Just a few steps later, though, he’s realising that he’d seen a restroom sign in the opposite direction, and why would a painting shop have a loo _behind_ the counter anyway? And yet James is still pulling him, his insistent hand yanking Teddy firmly into an unmarked door. It’s a supply closet, tiny and untidy, with overflowing shelves and a pile of buckets on the floor. A bare bulb is only a few centimetres from Teddy’s head when he flicks on the light. 

There’s barely room for the two of them to stand and Teddy’s so close to James, already. James slots his leg between Teddy’s and pushes him back against the narrow bit of exposed wall, barely wider than James’ shoulders. 

“This will do,” he says, and when Teddy’s mind finally catches up to what’s happening here, his hips give an almost involuntary roll against James’ leg. He can see the flush already along his neck and jaw, the dark stubble having grown back since his shaving charm this morning. 

“Your sunflowers are fucking _amazing_ , and I am so fucking horny for you right now.” James whispers, grabbing Teddy’s arse, nipping at his neck, pressing his hips against him. 

Teddy smiles and kisses James’ jaw in his favorite spot, just below his ear. Pressing in close, he feels James’ erection right up against his own cock, which is racing to catch up. 

“Oh, but _I’m_ the only one with the public-sex kink? Merlin, Jamie, how long have you been hard?” he asks, chuckling. 

“Shhh!” James chastises him, tipping his head toward the flimsy door. “They’re right there!”

And then James immediately drops to his knees in the tiny closet, knocking into a shelf of cleaning supplies and the pile of buckets, which topples over against their legs. He laughs, silly and sloppy, and says “shhhhhh!!” again, to himself, as he attempts to right it. Teddy casts the quickest locking charm of his life as James yanks down his trousers without even undoing the flies. 

James grabs Teddy’s wand from his hand and turns it on himself, surprising Teddy with a harsh sobering charm. He grimaces and swallows hard. “I want to be able to remember every bloody minute of this,” James says, and Teddy’s skin prickles with anticipation and magic in the tiny space of the closet. 

Teddy cards his fingers through James’ already-messy hair as he tucks the wand securely in his back pocket, and then stands back up to whisper in Teddy’s ear, hot sweet breath on his neck. 

“You don’t get a silencing charm, Tedward,” James whispers wickedly. His manner shifts now that he’s sober, and he’s gone a bit feral, fierce and predatory, lust in his eyes. All the blood in Teddy’s body is suddenly redirected to his cock and he can’t help but roll his hips again. 

James palms him, once, twice, still talking. His hand is hot and insistent. “I want you to have to be _quiet_ while I suck you off, with all those people just outside the door,” he says, and Teddy’s already biting down hard on his own lip to stop himself moaning. “Can you be quiet? Can you be so quiet for me, Teddy?” 

And Teddy shakes his head, because no, he definitely cannot be quiet. James claps a big square hand over his mouth, a bit rough, and Teddy does moan then, muffled by James’ broad palm. 

James smiles wickedly. “You’re terrible, Tedward. No self-control at all. I’ll have to be fast, then, won’t I.” Teddy licks at his hand, then, tries to bite it, but it’s gone too soon and James is already sliding down his body again. 

The wet heat of James’ mouth on his cock is a shock in the chilly closet, and fuck but Teddy loves James like this, his grabby hands everywhere, joking but with a growing desperation underneath. Teddy can feel the heat of his magic, too. He tangles his hands in James’ hair again and tugs lightly. James groans around his cock; the vibrations make Teddy arch his back against the cold cinderblock wall and bite back a gasp that escapes anyway. 

It’s all going so fast and Teddy is half out of his head now, James’ tongue driving him mad, and he fists his hands hard in his hair. James gives a small yelp and pulls off — “ouch, Tedward, you’re being very unruly” — and pulls out Teddy’s wand again. He feels the charge of James' magic, channeling through his own wand, and suddenly Teddy’s hands are flying up and pinned above his head with a hard sticking charm, and James’ mouth is on him again right away. Teddy arches back against it and feels himself push further down James’ throat and he can’t help but moan again.

James is too busy to scold him this time, drawing Teddy deeper into his throat. He looks down to see James’ mouth stretched around his cock, bobbing obscenely, and notices that James has shoved aside his own trousers and is working himself, fucking up into his fist in the same rhythm his other hand is working Teddy himself. James is wanking them both fast and rough, and the sight of it is enough to send Teddy over the edge and he’s coming, hard, with no warning. His knees give way, just a bit, and the sticking charm pinning his wrists is the only thing keeping him upright. 

James makes a muffled noise of surprise but swallows him down anyway, and Teddy’s body is suffused with warmth, with the _rightness_ of James. Even here, especially here, it’s overwhelming. 

James pulls off with a filthy sound just as Teddy’s arms and wrists begin to shake from the effort of holding himself up. With a quick pulse of magic, James ends the sticking charm and Teddy slides bonelessly down the wall, overwhelmed and out of breath… only to find James fucking into his fist, both hands on his cock, one cupping his balls and pressing hard into the base and the other fisting up and down, fast and tight. Teddy is mesmerized — he loves to watch James’ own hands on himself — and James is close. For the last few strokes, he rises up on his knees and arches his back, and then he comes hard with a catch of his breath and long low moan. He keeps working himself for a final few strokes, pants shoved down, breathless and wanton and wrecked-looking. 

“Fuck,” Teddy says, disappointed and still a bit trembly. “I was looking forward to helping with that bit.”

James, panting a bit himself, sits back on his heels and smiles at Teddy — that delicious, disarming smile. “The night is young, love, there’ll be more to help with later.” He swipes the back of his hand over his mouth and picks up Teddy’s wand again, to cast a cleaning charms at their clothes. His magic echoes off the walls of the tiny closet and Teddy shivers. 

“Have I mentioned that I love your cock?” James asks casually, pulling his trousers back up. 

Teddy feels himself start to blush; his hair is trying to go pink again. “You may have mentioned it once or twice,” he says, buttoning his own trousers, but secretly he wants James to never stop talking. Teddy pulls him close and kisses him deeply, wanting every part of James, and he leans back and knocks his shoulder into a shelf of half-used tubes of paint. They scatter everywhere, causing a ridiculous clatter, and Teddy grabs his wand to send them back. Just at that moment, there’s a quick knock and Ginny’s voice easily comes through the thin door. 

“Don’t think we didn’t see you both go in there! Come on out, it’s time for karaoke!”

Teddy flushed properly now — fuck, had they been quiet enough? They really had not managed to be quiet — and James just laughs, even though he’d frozen quite still at the sound of his mum’s voice. He gets to his feet and hauls Teddy up too. 

“You heard the woman,” he says, and the wicked grin makes another appearance as he shoves open the door. 

Weasleys love karaoke. 

***

Twenty minutes later, all the easels have been shoved aside to make room for a makeshift stage, with the chairs pushed together facing them. 

Someone’s cued up karaoke, somehow, with a Muggle cell phone and tinny speakers that could be vastly improved with a simple amplification spell. But so far, the four of them have refrained, and they’re watching a woman with bright purple hair sing about praying in some kind of Muggle religion that none of them recognise. 

Teddy leans over to say something to Ginny, and he spots her leg pressed up close to Luna's. Their chairs are very close together indeed, which seems like a rather good sign.. 

Ginny notices him noticing — Ginny notices everything — and gives him a knowing winky smile that’s entirely inappropriate, given what he’s just been up to with her son. Teddy’s blush goes deeper and he can positively _feel_ his hair blush before he refreshes his glamour. 

From across the room, Henrietta motions to James to come choose a karaoke song. As a woman in a studded leather jacket belts out a song about umbrellas, Teddy watches James scroll through the song possibilities on the phone, scowling in concentration, until a broad grin spreads across his face. He looks over at them and points, beckoning. For one horrifying panicky moment, Teddy thinks James is pointing at _him_ — but no, he’s motioning to Ginny, to join him at the front. 

“Thank Merlin. I did _not_ fancy a turn at that,” Luna breathes beside him, and they offer each other relieved smiles. 

Ginny strides up to the makeshift stage, the diaphanous shawl trailing behind her. She and James fist-bump the last singer and accept the thick paintbrush that’s being used as a microphone

James plucks the sunglasses from Ginny’s pocket and slips them on, and gives her a chaste peck on the cheek. Teddy has to will his hair to stay brown yet again when he can’t help but think about what that mouth was doing not long ago, and what it might do later that night. 

They begin the song. Teddy recognises it as one of the songs they’d played for him back at the flat — one of Stevie Nicks’ most famous, they’d said, one everyone knew. Something about a climbing a mountain and turning around. With no preamble, Luna turns to James and asks, “D’you think Ginny fancies me?” 

And although Teddy doesn’t know Luna all that well, Teddy feels a pang of profound fondness for her. She’s so honest, open and unguarded. Tonight, she’d painted fuzzy purple animals with antennae and tiny swirls around their heads. Not a sunflower in sight, but it was lovely just the same. 

“Yeah, I think she fancies you,” he says. “I know it, in fact.”

Luna smiles, obviously chuffed. “Oh, good. I fancy her too. Always have, a bit. She’s brilliant.” They’re both looking over at Ginny singing when Teddy notices one of the feather earrings holding up its tendrils and swaying back and forth rhythmically, like a fan at a concert waving a lighter. Teddy sucks in a quick breath and reaches for his wand, but beside him, Luna’s already whispering _Notice-Me-Not_ and discreetly holding up her palm to cast a perfect wandless spell right at the tiny spot. Impressed, Teddy looks at her, but she’s completely calm and still staring at Ginny as though nothing’s happened. 

“Nice,” he says under his breath, and she just smiles serenely in response. 

Together, flushed and freckly, James and Ginny are facing each other, singing. 

_Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?  
Can the child within my heart rise above?_

“They’re quite… committed to this song,” Luna says. 

_Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?  
Can I handle the seasons of my life?_

“And to think they both grew up with a mum _and_ a dad,” Luna muses. 

“Hmm,” Teddy says. “I wonder a bit what that’s like.”

“Probably quite loud, from the looks of it,” Luna says, as James and Ginny grapple for the microphone. 

_Well, I've been afraid of changing  
'Cause I've built my life around you_

Ginny looks at James fondly, because this is well true, and it had made the first year or so after the divorce a very difficult one for her. All the kids had been out of the house by then — James already on the Auror track, Al doing graduate studies at Oxford, Lily off at university in Australia — and Teddy thinks for the first time of how lonely Ginny must have been in her marriage. How lonely she and Harry both must have been. 

James’ face reflects her fondness. Both palms up, gesturing toward Ginny, he offers her the next lines solo, and she belts them out:

_But time makes you bolder_  
Even children get older  
And I'm getting older, too 

She slings an arm around his shoulder, the shawl enveloping James as well, and they continue together. 

_Take my love, take it down  
Oh, climb a mountain and turn around_

Maybe it’s the warmth of the studio, the friendly strangers laughing and cheering and singing along. But to Teddy, this song seems wise, and more hopeful than it has any right to be — as though it’s about finding something and not losing it. Maybe it is. 

_And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills  
Well, the landslide will bring it down_

James and Ginny look at each other with identical mischievous grins. Still singing, they head over to Luna and Teddy and kneel in front of them for the big finish, and the whole place chimes in together:

_And if you see my reflection_  
In the snow-covered hills  
Well, the landslide will bring it down  
Oh, the landslide will bring it down 

Luna flushes and then, seeming to surprise even herself, pulls Ginny up into her lap. She cups Ginny’s face in her hands and plants a kiss on her lips — not a small one, either, they’re properly snogging, and the room erupts in cheering and shouting. James and Teddy and the rest of the painters go wild, but they don’t seem to hear; Luna’s hand comes up to the nape of Ginny’s neck and Ginny wraps her arm around Luna as they deepen the kiss. 

James turns to Teddy, still on his knees — another echo of the supply closet; Teddy feels himself begin to grin — and holds out his arms. 

“All’s well that ends well, I suppose,” he says, looking over at them. He pulls a face, feigning disgust at his mum’s public display of affection, but Teddy knows better. 

James is still wearing those ridiculous aviators, and for a brief moment, just like the song, Teddy _can_ see his reflection, in the glasses perched on James’ freckled nose. Teddy sees himself smiling. It’s so bloody improbable, all of this, and yet. It’s his. His face is flushed and happy, unselfconscious. Carefree in a way he never imagined he could be. 

“Oh, love, we’re only just getting started,” he says. James pushes the aviators up but Teddy tips them back down. “No, leave them, I like it,” he whispers, and James laughs that gentle, private laugh of his, one that's just for Teddy alone, as he pulls him in for a kiss of their own.


End file.
